


Wear You Out

by SuperBlondie



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Creampie, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hybrid!Chanyeol, Hybrids, Idiots in Love, M/M, Pray for Kris, Smut, bottom!chanyeol, gratuitous use of the word "puppy", i think i use that tag on nearly every fic lol, puppy!chanyeol, we need more fics in that tag goddammit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-07 09:35:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21455881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperBlondie/pseuds/SuperBlondie
Summary: Chanyeol just wants to be a good boy, and he is. He is such a good boy. Yifan knows this, he just doesn't know if he's going to be handle his puppy's hyperactivity much more before he loses his mind.
Relationships: Kim Jongdae | Chen/Kim Minseok | Xiumin, Park Chanyeol/Wu Yi Fan | Kris
Comments: 34
Kudos: 321
Collections: EXZOO : Third Round





	Wear You Out

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I think I might have a theme running with EXZOO now lmao. I'm a Slut for Chanyeol and I refuse to be stopped. But anyway I really enjoyed writing this and hope you'll enjoy reading! Big thanks to the prompter! (you probably weren't expecting Krisyeol but I am rearragning deck chairs on the Titanic and once again refuse to be stopped)
> 
> As always, a big thank you to [Aarushi](https://twitter.com/Aarushi_c18) for being the best beta in the whole world!!

“It can’t be _that_ bad,” Jongdae says with a gleeful smile, knowing damn well that it is _that _bad. He swirls his spoon around in his coffee, not even noticing that his drink has gone cold because he’s too busy mocking Kris.

Kris slumps over the café table in defeat, head resting against the metal. “But it is, Jongdae, it really is that bad. I come home to a destroyed apartment every single day if I don’t lock him up. And I _hate _locking him up, it’s so cruel. I just don’t know if I can keep him.”

His imagination conjures up a pair of big, tear-filled eyes, voice shaking with betrayal as it promises to be good – _perfect _– if it means not going back to the shelter.

A hand slams down against the metal of the table inches from Kris’ face. He startles and looks up with wide eyes, only to freeze in place as Jongdae stares him down like a man possessed, not a hint of playful humor left. “Don’t even fucking think about it,” he commands, “If you even fucking _think _about sending Chanyeol back to the shelter I swear to God I’ll bury you alive.” Kris nods helplessly, vague scene of tears and pleas and unbearable guilt drifting away.

“When you adopted Chanyeol, you made a promise to take care of him forever. Not for a few weeks as a trial run, not until you get bored of him, _forever_. And you’re his first owner. He thinks you’re the best person in the entire world.”

Guilt whacks Kris over the head like a sack of wet mice. He replays all the days he’s come home to a destroyed apartment and barely had a moment to register the chaos before Chanyeol came bounding out of his room with that big smile. _Kris! You’re home! You came back!_ The same thing every single day, like he spends all day scared that Kris is going to abandon him or – or finally snap and send him back to the shelter for destroying the apartment one too many times.

Even now as Kris looks across the street to where Chanyeol is running around the fenced-in hybrid park with the other dog hybrid from three floors down, he can see how Chanyeol keeps pausing his play every minute or two to look back at the café and make sure that his owner hasn’t left him.

“I know,” Kris sighs in defeat, wiggling his fingers at his hybrid and attempting to shoo him back to whatever game he and Baekhyun have created to try and wear themselves out.

Chanyeol breaks out into that smile that made Kris adopt him in the first place. He waves back twice as fast and twice as excited, body thrumming with that energy that never seems to run dry no matter how many hours he spends at the park. The park makes a dent, sometimes allows him to let enough energy out that the rest of the day at home is enjoyable, but it’s never enough to actually wear him out.

Kris finds himself offering a tired, guilty smile to Chanyeol in return; it stays even after Baekhyun has recaptured Chanyeol’s attention by slamming a tennis ball into his back, starting a chase across the length of the park. His tail is a dark brown blur, floppy ears billowing in the wind.

He looks utterly, adorably ridiculous and Kris’ heart wrenches with shame that he even considered giving his hybrid back. “I’m an asshole. Like a full-on dick-weasel. He looks at me like I hung the moon and stars just for him and I can’t put up with him being a little hyper.”

And Jongdae laughs, “It was shitty that you’ve been thinking about giving him back, but that doesn’t mean you have to downgrade his Hybrid Hurricane status to ‘a little hyper.’ I adore Chanyeol, think he’s the best puppy hybrid to have ever existed, but he’s a fucking nightmare after a day of being cooped up in the apartment by himself.”

Kris nods, a slow, resigned up-and-down of his head as he remembers the past three months of wrecked apartments and needy hybrids. Jongdae has only ever seen Chanyeol after Kris has been home for an hour and the puppy’s been able to work off a little bit of energy by cleaning up and worming his way into Kris’ space for attention and affection. He doesn’t have any idea the sort of sweet, loving hell Kris goes through that first sixty minutes.

“This helps though, right? Going to the park and letting him run off some steam?”

Kris shrugs. “On the days I can take him to the park it helps, but it doesn’t do anything for the fact that he just builds up so much energy over the week. I’ve told him he’s free to go to the park if Baekhyun goes with him, but he’s just so… he’s so…”

“Attached,” Jongdae supplies.

“Yeah, _attached_. He’s just so attached to the idea that the park is _our_ thing, something _I _have to be around for.” Kris sighs as Chanyeol pauses in his chase to turn around and wave again, smile growing wider when he sees that he’s still got his owner’s attention. “I’ve started considering bringing him to work with me and letting him loose in the park two blocks east.”

Jongdae’s face scrunches up in distaste. “That park sucks ass,” he says, “Minseok hates it, hates all the big dogs that hang around there and fuck with any hybrid not accompanied by a human. Chanyeol’d be belly up in ten minutes if you weren’t there to keep an eye on him.”

Kris winces at the image of his poor puppy getting pushed around by other hybrids. Chanyeol’s never been very good at standing up for himself. He’s gotten into dominance battles before, against Baekhyun, against Jongdae’s cat hybrid, against Kris himself during his first week settling into the apartment, and he’d lost every single one by a landslide. But that’s part of his charm. Kris didn’t want someone cold and aloof and constantly trying to prove some stupid dominance bullshit, he wanted someone warm and sweet and happy to just laze around and be petted.

And Chanyeol is all of that and more, at least after he’s been able to run off some of his energy.

Kris leans back in his chair and scrubs his face with his hands, groaning in misery. He looks to the sky for help, asking the universe and God what to do with his overactive puppy.

Jongdae answers instead, “So, you are more than okay with Chanyeol going to the park with Baekhyun, right?” Kris nods. “And he doesn’t want to go because the park is something you two usually do together, right?” Another nod. Jongdae grins a Cheshire grin and laughs, rolling his eyes as though it’s such an_ easy _problem to solve and Kris is oblivious for not seeing the solution sooner.

Kris grits his teeth and forces himself not to bring up the time Jongdae couldn’t figure out how to get Minseok to stop laying on the kitchen counters and never thought of _asking_ him to stop. Chanyeol is more important than his ego.

“Why don’t you just find another activity for you and Chanyeol to do together and have the park be something for him and Baekhyun? He likes music, so take guitar lessons together or something.”

Kris gently, gently _slams _his head into the metal café table. “How did I not think of that already? I’m so stupid!”

“Kris,” he straightens up at Chanyeol’s call and looks to see his hybrid standing at the chain-link fence, watching him with big, nervous eyes. “Are you okay? What happened? What’s wrong? Are you dying? Jongdae, call nine-one-one!”

Jongdae cups his hands around his mouth, “Don’t worry! He’s fine, just stupid!”

Chanyeol scoffs, nose scrunching up as his lower lip pushes out in a pout. “My owner is _not_ stupid! _You’re _stupid!”

“I’m fine, puppy, really,” Kris cuts in as Jongdae lets out at mock-offended scoff. “Go back to playing. As soon as Jongdae finishes his coffee we’ll come over and join you.”

“Can we play frisbee?” Chanyeol bounces on the balls of his feet, fingers curled in the holes in the fence and making the whole thing shake. “Can we? Can we _please_? We haven’t played frisbee in so _long_!” Kris smiles and nods, helpless to the little whine in Chanyeol’s voice. The puppy hybrid cheers and yells to Baekhyun, shouting for the other hybrid to get a frisbee out, before he turns and runs to do it himself.

Kris watches him go, eyes fixed on his wagging tail and soft, floppy ears. He thinks of how nice it’s going to be later that evening, when Chanyeol is finally worn out enough to lie on the couch and watch TV; Kris’ll be able to scratch those soft ears and not have to worry about Chanyeol vibrating out of his own skin, at least for a little while.

His sweet, ridiculous hybrid.

When Kris turns back to Jongdae, he sees the other man staring at him with a very strange sort of stare, eyes narrowed and lips pursed. “What,” Kris asks. There are no stains on his shirt, no chocolate left on his mouth from his croissant. Jongdae opens his mouth, closes it, opens it, and then closes it again. An eyebrow ticks up. The cold cup of coffee gets pushed to the side. It’s so drawn out and dramatic, so _Jongdae_, that Kris can’t help but roll his eyes, “_What_?”

“Nothing.” The curiosity in Jongdae’s eyes fade and one side of his mouth quirks up into a smirk. “Was just thinking about something.”

“Really? Strange, there wasn’t any smoke coming out of your ears.” Kris shoves his chair back from the table to dodge the smack aimed at his head. “Oh, what was that, Chanyeol? You want to play frisbee _now_? Well, you know how it is with hybrids, can never say no to them.”

“You’re such a piece of shit,” Jongdae laughs and pushes back from the table as well, throwing a few bills on the table as a tip for their waitress and following Kris to the crosswalk.

Kris grins, leaning on the button to change the lights and offering Chanyeol yet _another _wave when he realizes he is waiting for him at the park gate. The light changes and Kris jogs across the crosswalk so his hybrid doesn’t leap over the gate and drag him over. He’s done it before.

“I got the frisbee ready,” he yells even though Kris is coming through the park gate and his ear is less than a foot away from Chanyeol’s mouth. Kris flinches and Chanyeol’s smile drops. “Sorry! I’m sorry! No yelling up close, I know, I’m sorry!” His eyes go big and nervous like he expects Kris to get angry.

Kris wraps an arm around his shoulders and scratches behind his ears instead, Jongdae’s advice still in his ears. He’ll apologize for being such a jerk the past week when they’re back home, maybe sneak a long lunch break next week and take Chanyeol out to the park for a little while to make up for it. But for now, he pats Chanyeol on the back. “Hand me the frisbee, puppy, I’ll throw it for you.”

He sees Jongdae watching them from the corner of his eye, that strange look from before on his face again as he settles on a nearby bench with Minseok, falling into the cat hybrid’s embrace like he lives there. He wants to ask what that face is about again and get an actual _answer_.

But then Chanyeol is shoving the frisbee at his chest and bouncing around like the puppy he is. Chanyeol comes first, even to Kris’ own needs. “You ready,” he asks, teasing at a throw.

“I’m ready! I’m ready! Throw it!”

Kris takes in Chanyeol’s face, the excitement shining in his eyes, his pretty, captivating smile, the sweet shape of his face. The pent-up energy in his shoulders. And then he throws the frisbee as hard as he can, “Go long!”

Chanyeol takes off like a shot after the frisbee and Kris feels a little more confident in his ability to handle his hyperactive puppy.

-

And then Kris comes home next Wednesday evening to a destroyed apartment. Nothing is broken or irreversibly damaged, but everything has been dragged out from everywhere and scattered across the floor and any other flat surface. All the cushions and pillows have been thrown off the couch. Every board game Kris owns has been opened and all the pieces are dumped out, some arranged into what might have been a short-lived game. Books have been pulled down from the bookshelves and stacked into strange piles that are actually the cleanest part of the living room.

Kris toes his shoes off at the door and turns his head so he doesn’t have to look at the mess. He takes a few deep breaths through his nose, and then through his mouth when he still isn’t calm enough to call for Chanyeol without yelling.

The apartment had been so nice Monday and Tuesday, Chanyeol limiting his reign of terror to his own room, and Kris had almost convinced himself that the past months had just been an extended period of settling in. Or maybe just that spend all weekend running around the park and Jongdae’s backyard had siphoned off enough of Chanyeol’s endless energy that he could handle spending most of the day in the apartment.

Kris looks back out at the mess he used to call a living room and admits that he was wrong.

At least nothing is destroyed, which is a major upgrade from Chanyeol’s first month at home, when his nerves about being in a new place made him tear up tissues, paper towels, and some of Kris’ oldest, most threadbare rags. Chanyeol will put the apartment back together as best he can while Kris is in the shower.

He repeats it to himself like a mantra, tells himself that the mess is very much temporary. It doesn’t help when he comes home to disaster _every single day_ though. The mess has become the rule rather than the exception and it’s grating on Kris’ fragile, fragile nerves.

And he knows Chanyeol doesn’t _mean _to misbehave. Being told he’s a good boy is as necessary for life as oxygen to him, and he abides by the few strict boundaries Kris has in place with unwavering obedience.

He never tries to leave the apartment complex without someone to supervise him and keep him from getting abducted – Kris has read too many horror stories of sweet, unsuspecting hybrids being snatched off the street and never being found and he’s not about to lose Chanyeol. He’s gotten better about personal space and not sniffing people without permission.

Chanyeol is a _such _a good boy when it comes to literally everything except destroying the apartment. And even then, Kris knows he’s trying to correct his own behavior and pick up after himself when his impulse control takes a vacation and the idea of pulling all cushions off the couch is too tempting to resist.

Kris heaves a sigh and runs his fingers through his hair as clanging starts up in the kitchen. “Chanyeol,” he calls over the noise, “come here please.”

“I’m sorry! I’m cleaning up! I’m really, really sorry, Kris, I’ll clean it all up.” Chanyeol sounds so guilty. Kris can imagine the way his tail must be tucked between his legs as he shoves pots and pans back into their proper cabinets.

Kris lets Chanyeol clean for as long as it takes him to fix the couch, gathering up the cushions and throw pillows so he can collapse down onto them. When he’s settled, two fingers on each hand rubbing at his temples to fight off the headache building behind his eyes, he calls for Chanyeol again, tells him to leave the kitchen alone for now.

The hybrid comes shuffling out of the kitchen with his head hung low and his tail tucked between his legs just as Kris imagined. His vestigial human ears are bright red with embarrassment. If he looks up from the floor, Kris knows he’ll see those puppy-dog eyes that Chanyeol’s canine DNA has perfected to a heart-wrenching degree, just what he needs to get him out of any trouble he Tasmanian-devil spins his way into.

“Sit down, puppy,” Kris pats the cushion beside him, “I’m not mad at you. You’re not in trouble.”

Chanyeol settles onto the couch. “I’m not,” he asks, voice tiny and painfully hopeful. Kris shakes his head and the puppy wastes no time in crawling into Kris’ lap, curling his lanky body into a ball so he can fit his head under Kris’ chin.

Chanyeol’s hair is soft against Kris’ skin, under his hands when he scratches behind his hybrid’s ears. The little sigh of contentment he gets makes him sigh in return, almost unspeakably fond of his troublemaker. “What am I going to do with you?” Chanyeol shrugs and cuddles in closer, presses himself against his owner and turns his face to bury his nose in the crook of Kris’ neck.

Kris remembers how Jongdae stared at them when Chanyeol did this last weekend, made himself at home in Kris’ lap the way he had since he was first adopted. Kris blames it on the changes the scientists made to the normal canine hybrid genome to exaggerate all the stereotypical puppy traits. Chanyeol’s always been cuddly, always needed more affection and praise than normal canine hybrids like Baekhyun. And for someone who’s had more than a few relationships end because he wasn’t affectionate enough, Kris has never had an issue giving Chanyeol all the attention he requires.

Chanyeol’s just too easy to love.

“You’re the best owner.” Chanyeol’s voice is muffled by the skin of Kris’ neck, but the sweet statement still makes Kris’ stomach flip.

“Why’s that,” he asks, “Because I pet you all the time?”

“No – well, yeah, but not just that. You never get mad at me. Even when I wreck the whole apartment, you never scream or yell or threaten to send me back to the shelter.”

Kris swallows, guilt a lump in his throat that refuses to go down. He wraps his arms around Chanyeol and squeezes him tight, presses a kiss between his ears and calls him a good boy. He makes a silent promise to both himself and Chanyeol to spoil him for the rest of the week as a secret apology. “Don’t worry about the shelter, Yeollie. This apartment would be too empty without you.” Sometimes it feels too full with him, but Kris has decided he’d rather his apartment be the literal definition of chaos with Chanyeol than calm, quiet, and lifeless without him.

“Kris,” Chanyeol pulls back and tilts his head up to look Kris in the eye. His mouth is twisted to the side in thought, eyebrows pulled together as he tugs at a loose string on the hem of his shirt. Kris hums in response. Chanyeol opens his mouth. “Do you – are we,” he pauses, “never mind. Forget about it.”

Kris frowns. “What? What is it? Something wrong?”

Chanyeol shakes his head and slowly unfurls himself, crawling back out of Kris’ lap. And Kris instantly misses his warmth, misses the way he fits in his arms.

“You can tell me anything, you know that, right? I’m always going to be here for you.”

A smile that doesn’t quite reach Chanyeol’s eyes and a subdued nod is all that he gets in return, so Kris stands up and dusts himself off. Chanyeol’s hair is ruffled one last time before starting to carefully make his way through the battlefield of game pieces littering his living room floor. “You have to clean all this up while I’m in the shower, understand?”

Chanyeol’s ears flop as he gives a nod that’s a little more like himself, so energetic Kris worries his head’s going to fall right off his shoulders from the force. “Uh-huh! I’ll clean it all up, I promise!”

They stare at each other for a few long, peaceful moments. Chanyeol’s smile widens and brightens into something genuine and Kris can’t tear his eyes away from the curve of his lips. Can’t stop thinking about how pretty that mouth is when it’s smiling, when it’s laughing, when it’s pursed in concentration or slack with sleep.

He wants to know what that smile tastes like.

Kris jerks in surprise and turns on his heel, hurrying towards the bathroom where he can drown his thoughts in the sound of the shower running. He turns the water on freezing and most certainly does _not _think about how nice it would be if Chanyeol decided to join him.

That night after dinner, apartment mostly put back together, Chanyeol climbs back into Kris’ lap and wiggles, squirms, and shoves until they’re lying down on the couch, hybrid making himself comfortable as the little spoon. He drapes Kris’ arm over his middle and uses the other as a pillow.

It’s something he’s done nearly every night since Kris adopted him and it was never a problem before, but it sure as hell is now. Because, for some reason Kris can’t even begin to comprehend, he can’t stop thinking about how nice Chanyeol feels pressed against him like this, how inviting the smooth skin of his neck looks, how he might shiver and sigh and if Kris pressed his lips there.

Chanyeol rambles on about the show he put on, but Kris is so preoccupied with his own thoughts that he doesn’t hear a word of it. He makes appropriate listening sounds and shifts the arm under Chanyeol’s head to pet between his hybrid’s ears, but that’s the extent of his attention span.

And even then, all he really does is intensify his own torture because Chanyeol scoots back against him to get more pets, presses them flush against each other.

Kris’ thoughts are mostly chaste, but with the way Chanyeol presses back against him, he isn’t sure they’ll stay that way.

It’s the longest, most difficult hour of Kris’ life.

When the show ends and it’s time for Kris to go to bed, he dips in to kiss Chanyeol on the forehead. It’s what he does most nights, because Chanyeol gets a little clingy when it’s late and he’s tired and kisses are really the only thing that will make him content enough to let Kris go to bed on time. Kris tells himself that it’s normal, just part of their routine.

And then Chanyeol tilts his head up and Kris nearly kisses him on the lips, only catching himself in time to brush his lips across Chanyeol’s cheekbone instead.

He rears back in surprise. Chanyeol stares back at him with wide eyes, mouth dropped open just enough to make Kris want to throw himself headfirst out a window. “G-goodnight,” Kris yelps, voice squeaking, jumping into previously undiscovered octaves as he scurries to get away because Chanyeol is _leaning up for another kiss_.

The slam of the bedroom door echoes through the apartment and Kris can’t help but feel a little guilty for leaving Chanyeol without his forehead kiss. He can’t go back out there though, not with the memory of Chanyeol’s eyes filling up with hope as he stares at Kris’ lips. Instead, he crawls into bed and promises to get up early and make his puppy his favorite breakfast.

Kris lies in bed, heart pounding in chest and keeping him from getting anywhere near tired, and listens as Chanyeol putters around the apartment. The TV gets turned off, then the lights shining underneath the door go out. He waits for the soft creak of the door to Chanyeol’s room closing, but it never comes.

There’s a knock on his door instead.

“Kris?” Chanyeol’s voice comes from right outside the door, soft and sweet and sleepy. Kris can almost imagine the way his tail must be wagging. Slow, appeasing, the way it wags when Chanyeol’s trying to get his way. It’s blatant manipulation, painfully obvious even to people who’ve never met a dog, let alone a dog hybrid, in their entire lives.

Kris falls for it every goddamn time.

“Yeah?”

“Can I come sleep with you?” It’s silent for a long, long time, Kris caught between trying to come up with a response and just hoping Chanyeol will take his silence as an answer and drop it. “Please? Just for tonight? I’ll be good, I promise!”

Kris holds out for a few heartbeats, replays the entire hour he spent trying not to kiss Chanyeol, the moment he almost _did _kiss Chanyeol, as a list of reasons to say no. But then he remembers Chanyeol’s face and those big eyes and that sweet smile. And he caves, “Yeah…yeah, puppy, that’s fine. Come in.”

Chanyeol’s flinging the door open in a second. It’s kicked shut as afterthought, Chanyeol too busy launching himself under the covers and cuddling up to his owner to care about it.

Soft, furry ears tickle Kris’ chin, long legs tangling with his own as Chanyeol settles them chest-to-chest. Kris wraps his arms around him on reflex. Chanyeol is warm, and his presence is just as calming as it is nerve-wracking. He snuffles around for a bit and gets comfortable. Kris lies stock still the whole time, just listening as Chanyeol’s breathing evens out and his entire body relaxes. He makes the enormous mistake of craning his neck to look at Chanyeol’s face and is sucker punched by what he sees.

Chanyeol looks every bit the puppy he is when he’s sleeping, face slack and so cute it makes Kris feel a little insane. One ear is flopped back the wrong way and it takes all of Kris’ willpower to not reach over and fix it, to not tug Chanyeol just a little bit closer and press quick, sweet kisses all over his cheeks. He doesn’t, because he has at least some self-control left, but God he wants to.

It’s at that moment that Kris realizes two things. One, he’s got it bad, bad, _bad _for Chanyeol – wake him up with kisses, give him sweatshirts to wear because he likes how the hybrid looks in his clothes bad. Two, he has absolutely no idea what he’s supposed to about it.

But he knows someone who does.

Kris flails one arm behind him in search for his phone, yanking it off the charger in desperation. He drops the screen brightness down to zero as he brings it to his face so that he doesn’t wake Chanyeol and pulls up his messaging app.

He backs out of the app for a moment and takes a moment to stare at his own stupidity; both his lock screen and his home screen wallpapers are pictures of Chanyeol being unfairly cute, and yet he never realized how far gone he was. “Why didn’t anyone ever fucking _tell _me,” he whisper-hisses into the quiet, shushing Chanyeol when he twitches in his sleep. Then he reopens the messaging app and says goodbye to the majority of his dignity, pride, and self-respect.

**To: Jongdae**

_Are you free for lunch tomorrow? I need some help with something_

-

“So, what’s this thing you need help with,” Jongdae asks through a mouthful of the sandwich Kris bought him as payment for his assistance. There’s something in the way he asks, lips curling into a grin, that tells Kris he already knows but wants to make him admit it just because he enjoys the pain and suffering of others.

Kris stares down at his own sandwich – and the to-go bag with a bowl of Chanyeol’s favorite soup – and tries to make himself say the words out loud. They’re right there on the tip of his tongue but refuse to make the jump out of his mouth and into the air, like this whole debacle isn’t real if he doesn’t say it where anyone can hear.

He brings his sandwich to his mouth and mumbles into the bread, hoping that Jongdae will take some mercy on him and leave it at that.

Jongdae, like most soulless monsters, doesn’t even understand the meaning of the word _mercy_. “What was that? I couldn’t hear you?” The man grins and grins, teeth bared like a tiger waiting to pounce.

Kris swallows some of his pride and sets his sandwich down. “I think I like Chanyeol,” he says, quiet as a church mouse.

“Going to have be a little louder, Kris.”

Kris hates Jongdae _so much _sometimes. But he needs Jongdae’s help, needs someone who’s been through this before to tell him what to do. Jongdae’s done this before, years ago when he first adopted Minseok from a coworker whose new girlfriend the cat hybrid couldn’t stand. Kris remembers how rocky things were in the beginning. Minseok was a clenched fist with ears and a tail because he’d been abandoned by his owner; all his anger and hurt was directed at Jongdae with claws out and teeth bared.

But things calmed over time. Jongdae weathered the storm with a patience no one knew he had, himself included, and Minseok realized he could have a pretty good thing going on if he just settled down. And now the two of them are a _thing_. Jongdae calls Minseok his boyfriend and Minseok calls Jongdae his wife and they’re happy.

And Kris wants that, that happiness, the way Jongdae and Minseok only ever seem to truly settle down and relax if they’re together. Kris doesn’t _love _Chanyeol, but he cares about him an awful lot. He wants to make him happy, wants to kiss him, to be the one the hybrid collapses next to after he wears himself out at the park.

And so, Kris runs his fingers through his hair, sure of what he wants but completely clueless on how to get it, and admits, “I like Chanyeol.”

“We all like Chanyeol.”

Kris looks up from his sandwich and scowls and Jongdae’s stupid, smirking face. “No, you fucking moron, I _like _Chanyeol.” When Jongdae just keeps smirking that stupid smirk, mouth full of the sandwich Kris bought him as payment for help he has yet to give, Kris wonders if murder is really _that _bad. “I realized how much I like him last night because his stupid fucking smile. So pretty and sweet and I just want to kiss it off his cute little face.

“And then I almost did! I went to give him his normal forehead kiss goodnight and then he titled his head up and I sort of went for his lips and ended up kissing him on the cheek. I ran into my bedroom, but he followed and asked to sleep with me – I can’t say no to him when he sounds soft and sleepy. So he slept in my bed and I realized I was so far gone on him. He’s the wallpaper for my lock screen _and _home screen, Jongdae, did you know that? But once I realized how bad it is, I texted you for help because you have experience with this sort of thing but you’re – would you stop staring and just fucking help me?”

“What do you need help with,” Jongdae asks in the moment Kris pauses to take a breath, all his worries from the night before pouring out of him. “You’ve already figured out your own feelings. Which is the hardest part _by far_. I think I was in denial for a good few months before I admitted that I liked Minseok as more than a friend, and _he _took even longer.”

“But how did you tell him? Or how did he tell you? How am I supposed to make the first move?” Kris pauses, lips drawing into a thin line as he drops his gaze to the tabletop.

His voice softens as he remembers how sweet Chanyeol is, how much he craves praise and is always so unfailingly eager to please. How his puppy will do anything to make him happy, even something he doesn’t want to do like get his shots. “I don’t want to push him into anything he doesn’t want.”

Kris almost expects Jongdae to burst into howling laughter. It’s what he usually does when Kris is in the middle of a crisis over something Jongdae considers ridiculously small. And Jongdae would consider this ridiculously small, will likely tell Kris to just make a move and get it over with.

Instead, Jongdae leans forward and covers Kris’ hands where they’re lying on the table with his own. His eyes are shockingly sincere, mouth slipping into the gentle smile Kris only ever sees directed at Minseok. “Want to know something I’ve been keeping from you for the past two months?” Kris nods, struck dumb and speechless by this strange, new, unexpected side of his best friend.

“Baekhyun asked Chanyeol out months ago.” Kris stiffens, but Jongdae just squeezes his hands and keeps going, “They spent so much time together at the park those first few weeks, and then they’d hang out together in your apartment sometimes when you were at work. Chanyeol’s a cute little puppy, Kris, you can’t blame Baek for shooting his shot.”

Kris knows he can’t, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t. “I thought Baekhyun was courting that cat hybrid that works with Minseok at the café on Broadway, Kyungsoo or whatever,” he says through gritted teeth.

Jongdae nods and makes a noise of affirmation. “Oh, he is now. Minnie said Kyungsoo’s decided to let Baekhyun help him through his next heat. But before Baekhyun met Kyungsoo, he asked Chanyeol on a date one day while you were across the street getting you and Chanyeol breakfast. And do you know what Chanyeol told him?”

Kris shakes his head. Jongdae grins, slowly returning to his normal, teasing self. “He said no, because he was waiting for you to ask him. He’s been obsessed with you since you got him, and I thought you two just weren’t comfortable coming out as a couple yet.”

The image of Chanyeol leaning up for another kiss, eyes trained on Kris’ lips, flashes behind his eyes. All the memories of nights spent curled up on the couch together, of the countless hours spent with Chanyeol curled up in his lap, begging for attention, they all make a lot more sense. And Kris smiles and imagines how much nicer all that is going to be now that he can squeeze his hybrid close, kiss him whenever he wants.

“I have to go, Dae,” Kris says as he shoves his chair back and stands, “Thanks for the help! You can have the rest of my sandwich.”

Jongdae cheers, but Kris barely hears it, so intent on sprinting out the door that he nearly forgets to grab Chanyeol’s soup. He doesn’t though, because it’ll make Chanyeol so happy to have his favorite soup for lunch. And there’s nothing Kris likes more than making Chanyeol happy, earning that big smile.

He can’t wait to find out what that smile tastes like.

-

The apartment is mostly clean when Kris gets home that afternoon, Chanyeol just starting to pull the cushions off the couch as Kris is walking through the door. The hybrid freezes mid-throw at the sound of the door swinging open. “You’re home early,” he shouts, face brightening into that beautiful, devastating smile. His gaze switches to the bag in Kris’ hand, “And you brought food!”

Kris just barely manages to keep his balance when Chanyeol launches himself at him full-force. He catches the puppy with an arm around his middle and kisses his forehead in greeting. “Have a good day today?”

Chanyeol shrugs, nose tucked against Kris’ neck as he makes little sniffing sounds. “Not bad, boring when you’re not here. But you’re here now! You smell like Jongdae.”

“I had lunch with him to talk over a few things, but we didn’t touch except for a hug before we sat down. Didn’t think you could scent that well.” Kris forces as much of the syrupy sweet affection that’s made a home in his chest into his voice as he can; Chanyeol preens under the praise, pressing closer like it’ll get him more.

The hand resting on Chanyeol’s back feels his muscles tensing with unspent energy. He’s coiled-up spring just waiting to go, mind probably racing, train of thought multi-track drifting no matter how hard he tries to focus. Honestly, Kris is a little impressed that he hasn’t started begging for a trip to the park to run off some steam before he drives one of them insane.

Instead, Chanyeol drags Kris over to the couch and pulls him down onto the cushions that are still mostly in place. Kris drops the bag with Chanyeol’s lunch onto the coffee table and adjusts all his limbs to make space for the overgrown puppy that climbs into his lap seconds later.

“What did you talk about,” Chanyeol asks. Kris scratches behind the base of one of his ears and grins at the way his eyes go half-lidded in contentment. His tail wags against Kris’ leg, a steady _thump thump thump_ of happiness.

“You.”

“Me?” Chanyeol’s eyes open wide in confusion and Kris’ stomach drops at the child-like innocence staring up at him. Wonder, eagerness, the sort of sweetness that makes people on the street stop and tell Chanyeol how cute he is.

Chanyeol is an adult, twenty-three years old according to his papers. He’s not a child; the shelter wouldn’t let Kris adopt a child without extreme amounts of paperwork and background checks and hearings to determine his ability to raise a hybrid, the same route he would’ve had to go through to adopt a human child. The hybrid adoption system is fucked up in a lot of ways, but a kid’s a kid and not even the most militant of hybrid freedom groups complain about the red tape surrounding hybrid children.

So Chanyeol is a full-grown hybrid, a puppy hybrid, but an adult all the same. He is fully capable of making choices for himself and Kris is well aware of this. He was the one who chose to go home with Kris in the first place.

Something uncomfortable settles in Kris’ stomach all the same.

Chanyeol is soft in a way Minseok wasn’t when he and Jongdae got together, both of them fully-formed, independent adults. Minseok only needed Jongdae’s name on his adoption papers as a safety net against poachers. He had, and still has, a job and a bank account of his own. Minseok can take care of himself when Jongdae goes away on business trips.

And Chanyeol can’t, at least not yet. Kris has had to ask his company to hold off on any business trips for the foreseeable future because he’s not sure his hybrid will be able to handle being by himself for more than a day. He’s so eager to please, so willing to do whatever is asked of him if it means getting attention or praise – he sat still for his shots just because Kris told him how proud he’d be if he did.

Kris thinks back to the night before, how Chanyeol leaned up for another kiss. At lunch, he’d been so sure that Chanyeol was leaning up for a kiss because _he _wanted it, not because he thought it was what _Kris_ wanted and he’d get praised for giving his owner what he wanted.

Now, he’s not so sure. Jongdae said that Chanyeol wants him, but he’s not sure if Chanyeol understand what it means to want someone, if he understands that he can get all the attention and affection he wants without having to date Kris. If he even understands what dating is.

He almost doesn’t want to say anything, let the whole thing die off so that he doesn’t hurt inadvertently hurt Chanyeol. It would be hell for a long, long time, but eventually his feelings would fade away and the two of them could go back to the nice, easy, platonic owner-hybrid relationship they had before. But that wouldn’t be any more fair to Chanyeol than it would be to cup his pretty face and kiss his pretty mouth right now, because he wouldn’t get a choice either way.

The only way anything between them can work is if Chanyeol has a choice.

And so Kris has to lay it all out on the table, spill his guts and make it clear that Chanyeol will always have a loving home no matter what he wants from his owner.

“Yeah, you. And me. Us. Last night.”

Kris can feel Chanyeol’s heart skip a beat and then start to race, pink spreading across his cheeks. He sucks his lower lip between his teeth and heaves a sigh out through his nose. “Did I take it too far,” Chanyeol’s fingers curl into the fabric of Kris’ dress shirt. “I get too excited, you know? I don’t think before I act and then I make mistakes. But you just – you’d never looked at me like that before and I didn’t want to miss my chance.”

“Like what?” Kris heart keeps pace with Chanyeol’s. “How did I look at you?” It takes nearly all his self-control to grab his hybrid, keep him rooted to the spot so he can’t use those long legs to sprint away from the strange, tense, nearly uncomfortable atmosphere. So he’ll stay right here, in Kris’ reach, because Kris has a damn good feeling of what he’s about to say, and a damn good feeling that he’s going to like it.

Kris feels the way his puppy’s muscles jump, ears pressed flat against his head. He starts to curl in on himself, head resting against Kris’ chest as he pulls his legs in. Distress pours off him in waves.

Carefully, gently, so gentle that Chanyeol will only move if he wants to, Kris cups one of his cheeks and lifts his head until their eyes meet. “How am I looking at you right now?”

A moment of quiet, of hearts beating fast and loud. And then Chanyeol gives a little smile. One corner of his mouth pulls up, then the other. “Like you want to kiss me.”

“And how does that make you feel,” Kris asks. “Nothing is riding on this, Chanyeol. If you don’t like the way it makes you feel, that’s okay. We can stop this and have everything go back to normal, I’ll still love you as my favorite hybrid.”

“I’m your _only _hybrid,” Chanyeol giggles.

Kris shrugs. “Doesn’t make what I said any less true. But if you don’t like me looking at you like this, I’ll stop and we can pretend like this never happened.” Kris shifts as Chanyeol does, both of them settling into each other’s space with Chanyeol straddling one of Kris’ legs for a better angle to look him in the eye. Kris hears his voice soften on its own, hands moving out of his control to push Chanyeol’s hair out of his face. “It’s your choice, puppy.”

Chanyeol’s face splits into the bright sunbeam smile. Two long arms wind around Kris’ neck as the hybrid leans in, further and further until they’re nearly nose-to-nose. Kris can feel Chanyeol’s breath against his lips.

The hybrid tries and fails to find the right words for what he wants to say, mouth opening and closing as the seconds tick on. Words have never been his forte, not when he can say so much with a long hug or a well-timed pout.

Worry makes a slow march up from the bottom of Kris’ stomach, but it’s mostly held at bay by the way Chanyeol never stops smiling, scoots a little closer until they’re pressed together as much as they comfortably can be. His smile grows a little wider, and then, “I choose this.”

Kris finds out a moment later exactly what Chanyeol’s smile tastes like. It’s not something he can name, not a food or a feeling or something poetic from the romance novels he used to read in college. It’s not really any sort of taste aside from that fact that it is, by definition, the taste of Chanyeol’s smile.

Kris loves it anyway.

-

Chanyeol doesn’t sleep in his own room anymore. He pretends to for the first few nights after their first kiss, keeps Kris up late begging for extra goodnight kisses but never asks to crawl into bed with him. Kris wakes to find him crawling into bed late, late at night anyway, worming into his arms and snuggling down without a word.

Kris doesn’t mind; he just pulls his puppy closer, presses one final – _this is the last one, Chanyeol, I mean it _– kiss to his forehead, and goes back to sleep.

And besides sleeping arrangements, not much else changes between them. Snuggling in front of the TV turns into one of them being pressed into the couch cushions more often than not, and Kris can’t seem to stop himself from grabbing Chanyeol by the waist and pulling him in for hugs at nearly every opportunity, occasionally taking the chance to cage his puppy against the kitchen counter and kiss him breathless. But there’s no fundamental shift in how they function. Chanyeol is still a sweet, hyperactive, overly affectionate hybrid, and Kris is still his tired, coddling, lovesick owner.

The apartment is still a wreck when Kris comes home most nights.

Chanyeol tries. He tries _so hard_, wants to be _so good _for his owner. The downstairs neighbor complains because of Chanyeol’s frantic sprints across the apartment to work off some of his energy. Kris nearly begs him to go to the park with Baekhyun one Thursday night after he comes home to a lecture from Mrs. Johnson about keeping his “pet” in line and all the plates and bowls in the kitchen laid out along the floor in a single-file line, dining chairs taped together in a structure that defies the laws of physics.

Chanyeol _refuses _to go to the park with anyone but Kris, adamant in the belief that it’s _their _thing. He crosses his arms and shakes his head, stomps his foot like a little kid when Kris tells him that he’s going to the park with Baekhyun whether he likes it or not.

Kris adores Chanyeol, but his patience has been worn thin after months of this shit.

“You’re going, Chanyeol,” Kris forces through gritted teeth as he peels the tape off his dining chairs. “I can count on two hands how many nights I’ve come home to an apartment that wasn’t absolutely destroyed and I just can’t deal with it anymore. I know you can’t control how much energy you have, okay? I know it’s not your fault that the scientists structured your DNA that way, but it is your fault when I come home to this disaster because you won’t go and get your exercise.”

He looks up from the chair tower when Chanyeol doesn’t response and almost wishes he hadn’t said anything. “B-but if I go to the park with Baekhyun, then what’ll I do with you?” Chanyeol is just staring at him from where he’d been gathering up dishes to put away, eyes welling up with tears. The sight of it makes Kris feel like an awful fucking person, yelling at a poor, defenseless puppy like this.

But that’s how Chanyeol always gets out of this, always wins this argument because Kris feels like trash the second he gets a little strict. If Kris keeps giving in, Chanyeol’ll never get the exercise he needs and Kris’ll never get to come home to an apartment that didn’t just go through a category six hurricane.

“We live together.” Kris abandons the chairs and walks to Chanyeol, pulling the dishes out of his hands and setting them on the couch. “We spend every single night together, watching TV and talking about our days. And I’ll still take you to the park on the weekends just like I always do. It’s not like we’ll suddenly stop spending time together because you found something to keep you busy while I’m at work. You’ll always be my puppy.”

Chanyeol wraps his arms around Kris and steps in close, nose pressed to Kris’ neck. He makes little sniffing sounds that have no right to be as cute as they are. He sighs when he’s pulled right against Kris’ chest.

Kris can feel him calm, tail giving a few soft wags and body going lax as all the fight drains out of him. “I’m your favorite puppy,” he whispers, “Favorite hybrid in the world.”

“You’re my favorite _person _in the world.” Kris gives him a little squeeze around the middle and grins at the squeak that follows. “And there’s not a thing in the world that’s going to change that.”

Chanyeol smiles against his neck and hums, one hand coming up to play with the back of Kris’ hair. “I still want something just for us to do together though, like something fun.”

Kris scoffs and plays mock-offended, “Is kissing not fun enough for you? I happen to think it’s _very _fun.”

Chanyeol pulls back and rolls his eyes. He leans in and presses a kiss against Kris’ lips, his own lips twitching as he fights a smile. “Kissing is okay I guess,” he teases. He giggles when Kris presses a few more to all the parts of his face he can reach. He squirms helplessly, hands coming up to push Kris’ face away after the tenth or eleventh kiss. “I like kissing! I like kissing! I like kissing a lot, especially with you! Mercy, please!”

“No mercy, only kisses,” Kris growls. But he gives Chanyeol a moment of reprieve before ducking down and hoisting the hybrid up, long legs wrapping around his waist. “You can’t escape from me now!”

“Who said I wanted to escape?” Chanyeol smiles at him, head ducked so that he’s looking up through his lashes, and Kris feels arousal swoop low in his stomach. The playful energy drops into something heavy, slides down Kris’ spine and makes him want to press Chanyeol against the nearest surface.

So he does. He carries Chanyeol to their room and drops him onto the bed. He crawls up after him a moment later and cages the hybrid in with his body, grinning at the way surprise makes Chanyeol’s eyes go wide. His tongue darts out to wet his lower lip, a flash of pink that Kris can’t help but follow with his eyes.

“Kris?” Chanyeol’s voice is sweet, if a little confused, and it almost makes Kris pull back, reminds him that he’s been Chanyeol’s first _everything_ so far, kiss, boyfriend, orgasm from another person’s hands. They’ve gone far, far enough for the memory of Chanyeol learning what a prostate is and how nice it feels when it’s touched to be burned into Kris’ memory for the rest of time, but not _that _far.

Kris promised himself that he would make his puppy’s first time good – _perfect_. A nice dinner, roses, candles, chocolate-free candies because Chanyeol’s allergic, the works.

Kris almost pulls back, almost reigns himself in to just a peck on the tip of Chanyeol’s nose. But then Chanyeol is grabbing Kris by the collar and yanking him down. Their lips meet a little too roughly because Chanyeol’s still learning about pressure and curbing enthusiasm. Kris doesn’t even care, too lost in the excited little noises Chanyeol is making against his lips, squirming until he can get his legs up and wrapped around Kris’ middle again.

“You’re a menace,” Kris murmurs as Chanyeol pulls back for air. His hands shake as he fights the buttons on Kris’ shirt, red burning across his cheeks as he pants. Chanyeol pouts up at him in response and tugs more insistently the fabric in his hands.

Eventually, Kris gently bats Chanyeol’s hands away and undoes his own buttons before tossing his shirt away. Chanyeol’s shirt follows soon after, rucked up over his head and shoved under the nearest pillow in his haste to get undressed. Kris can’t help but laugh at the over-eagerness, the way Chanyeol’s hands drop to Kris’ pants seconds later. Kris balances his weight on one hand and uses the other to still Chanyeol’s. “Slow down, we’ve got all day. What do you want, Yeollie? Where do you want me to touch you?”

Kris doesn’t know what he expects Chanyeol to say. He knows Chanyeol likes it when the two of them jerk each other off, likes being fingered. He nearly went _insane_ the time they showered together and Kris dropped to his knees and ate him out, hiccupping, squirming, scrabbling for a grip on the wet tile wall as he came so hard his legs gave out.

Maybe Kris expects Chanyeol to ask to be touched _everywhere_, to want to get off as quickly as possible because patience has never been his strong suit. Maybe Kris expects Chanyeol to not even bother answering at all, just keep trying to tug all their clothes off and making those cute little noises of frustration when Kris’ pants stay resolutely _on_.

“Fuck me.” Chanyeol looks up, brow furrowed in determination, “Want you to fuck me.”

And out of all the things Kris could have expected to come out Chanyeol’s mouth, that was most certainly not one of them.

Kris is so shocked, so completely unprepared, that he freezes in place, not putting up a fight when Chanyeol shoves his hand away and finally manages to get the button on his pants undone. “I’ve been, um, I’ve been thinkin’ about it,” the hybrid stutters as he pulls down Kris’ zipper and then gets to work on his own sweatpants. Kris wonders if he’s lost all control of his body because he can’t make himself do anything but watch as blush spreads across Chanyeol’s face and down his neck, pretty brown eyes slipping shut in embarrassment. “Your f-fingers felt really good and – and your _tongue_ and I just. Baekhyun says c-c-cock feels even better and I want it. I _want_ it, Kris.”

Chanyeol barely takes a breath, doesn’t let Kris get out even half a syllable before he’s going again, “I found your plan for, like, my first time. You left it out on the dresser a week or two ago and I read it because I thought it was like a grocery list or something and I wanted to make sure you remembered to write down peanut butter. But then I saw what it was and there was so much stuff planned and – it’s too much for me.

“I don’t want it to be a big deal, Kris. It’s already kind of scary and all that stuff just makes it feel like it’s some huge thing.”

Kris blinks in surprise. Chanyeol’s just full of surprises today. “But I wanted to make it special for you.”

“It already is special,” Chanyeol opens his eyes and smiles up at Kris, a sweet little smile he never got to see before they started dating that knocks the wind out of him. “It’s special because it’s with you.”

“How are you so fucking cute?” Kris leans down and presses their lips together, grinning when Chanyeol leans into the kiss, lips moving in that sweet, overeager way of his. “I plan for for-fucking-ever to try and make our first time together perfect and then you just go and make it perfect without even trying. How the hell is that fair?”

Chanyeol giggles into his mouth, sound morphing into a soft sigh when Kris takes the chance to trace the edges of Chanyeol’s teeth with his tongue. His hybrid melts into the sheets, happy to lie still and be kissed for as long as Kris will kiss him. Kris shifts so he’s on his knees between Chanyeol’s spread legs. Hands free, he runs his fingers down the puppy’s sides, grins at the full-body shiver he gets in response.

The next time Chanyeol pulls back for air, Kris trails a line of kisses along his jaw to a spot just behind his human ear. His human ears are useless in nearly every way, completely deaf, left behind because hybrid genomes are strange and the few hybrids without human ears were said to have looked so strange that no one wanted to adopt them. Kris loves Chanyeol’s human ears, loves how they’re just a little too large for his head, loves the little earrings his puppy likes to wear occasionally and how pretty they look on him. But mostly Kris loves how _sensitive _they are.

When Kris nips at the patch of skin just behind his ear, Chanyeol jerks and squeezes his eyes shut, grabbing hold of Kris’ shoulders to ground himself. “Kris,” he whines, “don’t play with me.”

“But playing with you is so much fun. You fall apart so fast if I do just the right things.” He drags his lips down the shell of Chanyeol’s ear and watches the hybrid prove his point for him, breath coming out in little pants as he wriggles and squirms underneath Kris’ body.

Chanyeol’s sweatpants are slowly making their way off his hips, only held in place because of the bulge up front. All the squirming and shifting, legs scrabbling against the sheets when Kris gently bites down over his pulse, make the pants catch at Chanyeol’s knees. “Off,” he pouts, breaking into a groan as Kris kisses his way back up to his mouth. “Pants off right now!”

“Yours or mine,” Kris teases.

“No. Teasing. Pants. Off. Now.” Chanyeol’s pout doubles in intensity, so ridiculously impatient the second he’s a little turned on. Kris knows better than to push him too far, so he shoves his own pants down his hips and kicks them off before shifting to help Chanyeol.

The Rilakkuma boxers he bought for Chanyeol last week are staring back at him, also halfway down Chanyeol’s thighs. They should be ridiculous, should kill the mood at least a little.

They make Kris want Chanyeol even more instead.

They remind him of how he’d missed his normal train that night just so he could buy them, how happy his puppy had been to get them, racing into the bedroom to try them on. They remind him how much he cares for Chanyeol, how badly he wants Chanyeol to enjoy this. “I’m not teasing, just taking my time. Not every day that you get to fuck the prettiest person in the world.”

“You’re stupid,” Chanyeol says even as one of those big, pretty, sunshine smiles spreads across his face.

“You’re beautiful.” Chanyeol’s ears flush red and Kris is pretty sure if Chanyeol wasn’t currently lying on it, his tail would be wagging a mile a minute. Kris smiles until his cheeks ache. A moment passes, just two idiots smiling at each other while lying half-naked on a bed.

And then, “Okay, no more teasing. I promise.” Kris shoves Chanyeol’s pants, underwear included, down to his ankles with one hand and grabs the bottle of lube out from underneath a pillow with the other.

Chanyeol yelps in surprise, yelps again when Kris pops the lube open and pours a line onto Chanyeol’s hard, drooling cock where it’s resting along his belly. “Cold! Cold cold cold!” Kris has always been attracted to men, but he never thought a dick could be pretty until he saw Chanyeol’s.

Kris bites back a laugh and shushes him, wraps a hand around his cock and strokes until the lube warms up. “Such a big baby,” he coos, “The lube’s not _that _cold. You didn’t need much of it anyway, you’re already so wet.” More precum dribbles out of the tip a moment later when Kris tightens his grip and Kris gently pulls back Chanyeol’s foreskin so he can spread it down the shaft. “I’ve barely even touched you and you’re so turned on, poor puppy.”

Chanyeol’s too busy bucking up into Kris’ hand to even register that he’s being teased. He just lets out a shuddering sigh as his cock flexes in Kris’ hand and pulls his owner in for a sloppy, heart-wrenchingly sweet kiss.

“Feels good. More.” Chanyeol shifts his hips towards Kris, legs spreading wider. Smooth skin gone pink with exertion and arousal. Kris’s eyes travel down Chanyeol’s shaft all shiny with lube and precum to the little bit of extra skin at the base, from there to his little pink hole.

When all Kris does is stare, arousal shutting down more and more of his higher brain functions the longer he looks, Chanyeol huffs, snatching the lube from him and pouring a dollop onto his own hole. Kris actually has to look away so that he doesn’t come then and there. For all that Chanyeol is, in fact, a blushing virgin, he’s absolutely fucking _shameless _when it comes to getting what he wants.

“Holy shit, puppy. You have to give me some sort of warning before you do shit like that.”

“Touch me,” Chanyeol whines like the puppy he very much is. He throws his head back against the bed, hair damp with sweat and fingers curled in the sheets. It’s utterly breathtaking and Kris wishes he could take a picture. “Touch me touch me touch me.”

Kris trails his fingers along the insides of Chanyeol’s thighs. He follows his fingers with his lips and teeth, leaving little marks along the soft, pretty skin to admire later. He soothes each bruise with his tongue before Chanyeol can really register the hurt, and by the time Kris reaches Chanyeol’s hole the hybrid is making these gorgeous, helpless, little mewls, a hand fisted in Kris’ hair to keep him still. Chanyeol drives Kris crazy, makes him shuck the rest of his clothing and wrap a hand around himself to soothe some of the ache in his dick.

“So pretty,” he whispers, lets his breath ghost across Chanyeol’s cock and watches it drool out more precum.

He follows the drop with his eyes as it rolls down. Just as it’s about to pool down at the base, he catches it with his tongue and licks a long stripe up the underside of Chanyeol’s cock. Chanyeol whimpers, moans, and hiccups out sounds that make Kris want to fuck him until they both come so hard they black out.

The noises cut off into a choked gasp as Kris runs his pointer finger through the lube, warming it up and gently, gently easing a finger inside.

“Okay?” Chanyeol nods, breath coming in shaky gulps of air. “Doesn’t hurt?” It’s not the first time Chanyeol’s had fingers inside him, but there’s always a deep, lingering fear in the back of Kris’ mind that one day he’ll go too fast or not pay enough attention and hurt his precious, precious puppy.

Chanyeol shakes his head, “You’d never hurt me. Just feels…weird.”

Kris strokes along Chanyeol’s walls, smiles to himself as the hybrid shifts his hips to get comfortable and settles into the sensation. “Not a bad weird though, right? You’d tell me if it was a bad weird?”

“Course I would.” Kris watches him crack one eye open and look down at him with a little smile. Kris kisses the inside of his knee, brain jumping between horny and soft so fast it’s giving him whiplash. “Another finger,” Chanyeol says after a moment, “I want another. More.”

And Kris gives it to him, pulling out to pour more lube onto his fingers and pushing back inside Chanyeol with two. Chanyeol lets out a little gasp, hips easing back onto Kris’ fingers for more, and Kris wonders how they managed to take things slow at all with Chanyeol being this fucking hot.

Two fingers give him a lot more options than one, and he finds Chanyeol’s prostate in seconds. He watches Chanyeol arch up with a moan as he rubs quick, gentle circles over that spot and swears he can feel his heartbeat in his dick with how hard he is. Kris has to keep his free hand pressed to Chanyeol’s stomach to keep him from squirming too much, hips twitching forwards and back like he can’t decide whether he wants to get away from the fingers inside him or get them deeper. He keeps moaning, keeps whining in the back of his throat.

“St-stop,” Chanyeol hiccups, “I’m too close! I don’t wanna come yet! I’m ready! I’m ready!”

And Kris stops, because Chanyeol asked him to, but when he pulls out it’s not to line himself up with his puppy’s now red hole. Instead, he leans forward with his hands braced on Chanyeol’s knees and presses a kiss to Chanyeol’s slack mouth.

He sighs, “Oh, puppy, I don’t think so. I’m bigger than two fingers, a lot bigger.” Chanyeol snorts and his eyes flutter open to give Kris an accusing glare that would be much more impactful if it weren’t for the fact that he already looks halfway to completely fucked out. “This isn’t some bullshit bravado thing. You’ve never had anything more than fingers in your ass before, I could hurt you.”

“Just go slow. I-I’ll tell you to stop if it hurts too much, I promise. I won’t be stupid. I just – I want this, I want _you_.” Kris feels himself melting in second, heart turning into a pile of ooey-gooey, head-over-heels-in-love mush at the absolute sincerity in those big, brown eyes.

He plants one, two, three more kisses on Chanyeol’s lips. His heart races in his chest as he pours more lube onto his cock and lines up with Chanyeol’s hole. He can feel it twitch against the head of his cock; he could probably get off on just that feeling and the sight of Chanyeol spread out and wanting to be fucked. He probably _will _get off to this memory at least once in the future.

For now, he wipes his fingers off on the sheets and hikes Chanyeol’s legs up on his hips, helps him settle into as comfortable a position as possible. He takes one of Chanyeol’s hands in his own, for his own sake or Chanyeol’s he’s not quite certain. “You ready?” Chanyeol nods. “You sure?”

Chanyeol rolls his eyes but doesn’t lose his smile, just squeezes his legs around Kris’ hips. “Uh-huh, I’m sure. Fuck me.”

Kris pushes, softly, maybe a little too softly at first, and then just enough to feel Chanyeol’s hole begin to stretch open. Chanyeol gasps, squeezing Kris’ hand. The gasp gets a little choked, a little garbled, as Kris continues to push until the head of his cock pops in.

Chanyeol is a fucking _furnace _inside, so hot and wet and tight that Kris thinks he’d be happy to die buried balls deep inside him. He feels so good like this. _Looks _so good, spread open, blushing all the way down his chest, head turned to the side as a little bit of drool spills out of his mouth as he gulps down air. He’s beautiful – he’s _always _beautiful – but right now, right here, it’s like looking at a work of art. A masterpiece in the private museum of their bedroom, something only Kris will ever get to see.

“M-move, keep going,” Chanyeol breathes after a moment, sounding wrecked but also incredibly determined. His face scrunches up as Kris obeys, pushes in in in _in_. Until he’s buried to the hilt, only holding onto shreds of self-control because he knows Chanyeol needs him to.

“I’m here,” Kris whispers as he leans forward, swallowing back a moan as it makes the angle change and lets him slide in a little deeper. Chanyeol hiccups in response, pupils blown wide. “I’m right here, puppy. I can pull out if it’s too much.”

And Chanyeol blinks a few times, swallows down his spit. “You’re so big I – Kris, I’m so full.” Each breath makes him clench around Kris just a little, just enough to drive him to the edge of sanity.

“Good full or bad full?”

Chanyeol shifts his hips back against Kris and moans long and loud. The sound nearly drags Kris headfirst into an orgasm, whole body going stiff. “G-good full. S-so good. Want – I want… _Kris_.”

It almost reminds Kris of all the times Chanyeol’s eyes were bigger than his stomach at a restaurant, getting so much food that he couldn’t possibly finish it all. The way he’s staring up Kris now is the same it is then, confused, a little lost, waiting for Kris to come up with some solution to fix the problem he created.

“What do you want, puppy? You have to tell me what you want.” He presses kisses along Chanyeol’s brow, tries to coax some sense of coherence out of him. The hybrid just clings to him, thighs flexing as he whimpers out the sweetest noises. “Do you want me to pull out? Do you want me to stop?”

Chanyeol shakes his head, ears flopping sweetly. “No! Don’t stop!” There’s a pause, big, brown eyes blinking fast as he tries to clear his head. “Just,” he breathes out, “just move. Want you.”

Kris nods and leaves another kiss on the tip of his puppy’s nose before rearing back and slowly pulling out until just the head is left. Then he eases back inside, eyes focused on Chanyeol’s face. They moan in unison, nothing more than huffs of air as Kris eases out and back in over and over. Slow, gentle, scared to move too fast and hurt Chanyeol. It feels nice, Kris’ eyes slipping shut at the easy rhythm.

And then Chanyeol tries to meet Kris’ thrusts, clumsy bucks of his hips that change the angle so that Kris is rubbing against his prostate with push in.

Chanyeol chokes on a moan as his body locks up for a moment, clenching down on Kris’ cock like a vise. Pleasure runs like lightning down Kris’ spine, radiating out to the tips of his fingers and back in towards his stomach. He moans, falling forward as Chanyeol’s ass does its absolute best to drive him insane. Every clench makes the head of his cock rub against Chanyeol’s prostate that much more and makes Chanyeol clench down even harder.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Kris groans. His hips buck, thrusting harder into Chanyeol of their own volition.

Chanyeol lets out the prettiest sound in response, hands coming up to grip Kris’ shoulders and give him more leverage to thrust back. “More more more. Faster, harder, I can take it, I promise.”

Kris has never been good at denying Chanyeol anything.

He grabs one of Chanyeol’s legs and hikes it up, spreads him wider. It gives Kris a perfect view of where Chanyeol is stretched around him, hole red and a little puffy from the use, probably so, so sensitive if Kris was mean enough to play with the rim. But he’s not, mostly because he can’t look for more than a few seconds without being dragged to the edge of orgasm. Instead, Kris grabs Chanyeol’s hips with his free hand and fucks him just as he asked, hard, fast, until he can’t remember anything but Kris’ name.

Sex is loud, the sound of the slick slide of Kris’ cock inside Chanyeol’s hole a counterpoint to the slap of skin on skin, the soft squeak of the bedsprings. But Chanyeol is even _louder_. He moans, groans, whimpers, whines high in the back of his throat when Kris purposefully shifts the angle away from his prostate to tease, _screams _out Kris’ name when shifts back. Kris’ own sounds are lost in the din but he doesn’t even care, head filled with Chanyeol’s voice as he spirals higher and higher towards release.

Kris isn’t far behind. It’s been a long, long time since he got to fuck someone, even longer since he got to fuck someone as beautiful as Chanyeol. “I’ve got you,” he whispers as Chanyeol clings, sobs out how close he is. “You’re so fucking gorgeous, Chanyeol. Want to see you come all over yourself.”

He wants them to come together, wants to feel Chanyeol squeezing around him as he loses his mind. Chanyeol’s always such a mess when he comes, usually cries his way through it because he’s not used to coming so hard.

“Touch me. I need – I need you to touch me, please please please please.” He trails off into jumble of noises as Kris wraps around his cock – the base, at least, where his knot is swelling up.

Canine hybrid knots aren’t large. Chanyeol’s is maybe the size of Kris’ fist at its absolute fullest. It’s so, so sensitive too; Kris has to press all his weight down on Chanyeol to keep him from squirming too much as he wraps a hand around his knot. His hybrid yelps, digs his nails into Kris’ shoulders as tears spring to his eyes.

Chanyeol clenches down so hard that Kris has to stop, only managing to keep himself from coming because he’s transfixed by the way Chanyeol arches off the bed. Kris is pretty sure the head of his cock is pressed right against Chanyeol’s prostate and he almost feels bad for him.

But then his brain catches up to the rest of the world and he hears Chanyeol’s voice, raspy, wrecked, helpless as he begs, “Let me come. Please. Please. I need it. Kris Kris Kris Kris, please – I – so close. Love you love you love y- let me _come.”_

Kris orgasm hits him like a freight train and it’s all he can do to pull out and slam back in one last time, squeezes his hand around Chanyeol’s knot the way he knows his hybrid needs. “Oh, fuck fuck fuck, _Chanyeol_.”

Chanyeol comes so hard he stops breathing, just tears streaming down his face as he convulses, squeezing down on Kris like pure sin and milking him for every drop of cum he has. Chanyeol paints his own chest and belly in white.

Once Kris gets his bearings back, he leaves soft, calming kisses on Chanyeol’s cheeks, wiping away the tears as he waits for his puppy to settle back down. “Don’t think you’ve ever come that hard. Breathe, I’m here, just breathe.”

Chanyeol’s hands eventually move from where they’d had Kris’ shoulders in an ironclad grip so that he can throw his arms around Kris’ neck and tug him even further down, shivering with aftershocks and whispering for comfort. Kris goes easy, pulling out as gently as he can and falling onto the bed beside Chanyeol before tugging him close.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Kris pours out reassurances and praise, “I’m staying right here with you. My perfect puppy, took everything so well.”

A soft smile is all he gets in response, Chanyeol too tired to speak. Kris doesn’t mind, not when Chanyeol’s words are ringing around inside his head. He’s not sure if Chanyeol was just begging in the heat of the moment, spouting nonsense because he wanted to come that badly. And then he decides that he doesn’t really care, because hearing it felt right and the idea of saying it feels even better.

“Love you. Love you so much.”

Chanyeol’s eyes fly open in shock. “Really,” he asks, “Do you mean it?” Kris nods and revels in that big, wide, radiant smile.

Eventually, Chanyeol settles completely, slipping out from that fragile, sensitive period he always has after he comes hard. His body relaxes and he drifts, not quite asleep but not quite awake either. Kris takes that as the sign to extricate himself from Chanyeol’s arms and start cleaning them both up. Chanyeol whines because he never likes it when Kris stops cuddling him, but it tapers off into a sigh when he comes back with a warm washcloth and starts wiping the cum, lube, and sweat away.

Once they’re both clean and Kris has managed to tug the wet sheets out from under Chanyeol, he flops down beside him in bed. His body is already starting to ache oh-so pleasantly. It won’t be so pleasant later though, especially not when he’s finishing cleaning up the apartment. He can’t imagine coming back to the apartment destroyed again tomorrow night.

He opens his mouth to remind Chanyeol that he agreed to go to the park with Baekhyun tomorrow, when the way Chanyeol is sweaty and panting, eyes half shut with exhaustion, gives him an idea.

In the morning, Kris fucks Chanyeol again. He wakes him up with sweet kisses before rolling him onto his back and sliding in, squeezing around the base of his cock until his knot swells up and he comes all over himself. He cleans his puppy up afterwards and brings him breakfast. He tells Chanyeol how good he is and how much Kris loves him. Then he goes to work.

And comes home to a perfectly clean apartment.

-

“I told him he’d be too sore,” Kris says mostly to himself as he watches Chanyeol run around the park, chasing after Baekhyun who has taken possession of his favorite frisbee. He attempts to run, at least, but he keeps stopping with a little pout, one hand going back to rub at his lower back. Kris sighs and leans his head back against the trunk of the tree he’s taken cover under.

Jongdae and Minseok are sitting beside him, and he watches them exchange a look of surprise out of the corner of his eye.

Kris doesn’t bother explaining, just sighs to himself as he remembers how stubborn Chanyeol had been about getting fucked before they went to the park that morning. He’d tried to explain that the last thing Chanyeol would want to do after being fucked would be to run around for hours and hours, but he’s never been good at denying his puppy anything, even worse when it comes to sex.

And Chanyeol _loves _sex. He says that he likes that it’s just their thing, something Kris will never, ever, _ever _ask him to do with anyone else. He goes to the park with Baekhyun without complaint now, content to have an activity for just him and his owner.

Kris thinks that sex might actually wear him out more than the park, too. He’s not sure why, but Chanyeol comes harder than anyone Kris has ever slept with before, always a little out of it and needy as he comes back down. Kris doesn’t mind it at all; it just means more time to cuddle in bed, a nice, warm bath before they go to sleep so Chanyeol doesn’t feel so sore.

Like how he feels right now, as he stumbles over and collapses onto the ground next to Kris. He puts his head in Kris’ lap and nuzzles against his hands to ask for pets He gets them, of course, because he’s so unbearably cute when he’s tired. “My ass hurts,” he whines, shameless even with Minseok and Jongdae sitting just a few feet away, “I want a bath.”

Jongdae chokes on air and Minseok pulls him up to go sit on their favorite bench instead, laughing quietly to himself. Kris can only offer them a helpless shrug in response. Everyone knows he has absolutely no control over Chanyeol’s mouth.

“I told you we should wait, but you didn’t listen. I told you that if you wanted to fuck that badly you should top, but you didn’t listen then either.” Kris tries to sound admonishing, but he can’t keep the tone up when Chanyeol looks up at him with those pitiful, puppy-dog eyes and gives a few sad wags of his tail.

“But I like how you feel inside me. Warm and full. And my knot…I can’t be on top.” Chanyeol turns red and starts to tug at a loose string on Kris’ pants.

Kris sighs, “Your knot will not hurt me, puppy. We’ve been over this how many times?” He’d pulled up countless medical articles that explicitly stated most canine hybrid knots were not dangerous to normal humans. He’d even explained that pulling out before coming is a very common thing and could be used to avoid the knot ever going near Kris in the first place. But Chanyeol is so, so scared of ever hurting Kris that he refuses to top at all. Kris is pretty sure that that will change some day, eventually, hopefully.

For now, he enjoys getting to have Chanyeol writhing and half out of his mind with pleasure underneath him.

Chanyeol turns increasingly whiny as the day creeps on. The heat of the afternoon coupled with the soreness has worn him out and Kris is looking forward to spending the rest of the day quietly curled up together on the couch. His puppy will be a live wire tomorrow, but that’s a problem for future-Kris to solve.

Kris ends up half-carrying him to the end of the car after only two hours at the park. The last time a trip to the park was that short was when a rainstorm rolled in ten minutes after they got there; Chanyeol ran around in the rain for two hours before he slipped and got mud in his mouth and became inconsolable. “I’m never fucking you before we go to the park again. Doesn’t matter how you try to change my mind either, puppy, you were too sore to have any fun.”

Chanyeol whines, mostly asleep, but doesn’t protest, instead leaning more of his weight onto Kris and tilting his head up for a kiss. “What am I going to do with you,” Kris sighs even as he gives Chanyeol his kiss.

“Love me,” Chanyeol says simply. His eyes slip shut as he gets comfortable in the passenger seat, buckling his seatbelt before curling up, face soft and sweet with sleep. “You should love me.”

And Kris just smiles and kisses his forehead one last time, because he already does.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! If you liked it, please leave a kudos and a comment! You can find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/killmeDO) and [Curious Cat](https://curiouscat.me/killmeDO) Sometimes I talk about what I'm working on next and post snippets! I'd love to hear from you <3


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